Chapter 3: The Woman Before Betty

Betty knew the evening would be uncomfortable before she even arrived.

Freddie had told her his aunt was hosting a family dinner, and his mother expected them both to attend. He had offered to make an excuse, but Betty refused. She didn’t want their relationship to become something they hid whenever Moms was unhappy.

Besides, she wanted to meet the family on her own terms.

“You don’t have to stay long,” Freddie said as they walked toward the house.

Betty glanced at him. “You’ve said that three times.”

“I’m trying to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. I’m just wondering whether your mother will pretend I don’t exist or introduce me as the woman who ruined her life.”

Freddie gave a reluctant laugh. “She wouldn’t say that.”

“You sound very sure.”

He stopped at the front door and turned toward her. “I know she’s difficult. I know she’s been unfair to you. But I want you to know that I’m not going to let her decide what happens between us.”

Betty searched his face. She could see how much he wanted her to believe him.

“I believe you,” she said, taking his hand. “Now let’s go inside.”

The door opened before Freddie could knock.

His aunt, Cynthia, greeted them with a warm smile and a hug for Freddie. She turned to Betty and held her hands.

“So this is the woman who has finally convinced my nephew to stop working every weekend.”

Betty smiled. “I’m not sure I deserve credit for that.”

“You do,” Freddie said. “She’s the reason I’ve started taking days off.”

Cynthia laughed and ushered them inside.

The house was already full of relatives. Conversations drifted from the dining room to the sitting area, and the smell of roasted chicken filled the air. Betty relaxed a little as Freddie introduced her to his cousins and uncles. A few people were curious about the engagement ring, but most welcomed her warmly.

Then Moms entered.

She wore a deep blue dress and a necklace Betty recognized from the family photographs Freddie had shown her. Her expression was composed, but her eyes moved straight to Betty’s hand.

“Freddie,” she said, kissing her son’s cheek. “You’re late.”

“We’re right on time, Mom.”

Moms looked at Betty. “I see you brought your guest.”

Betty kept her smile in place. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,” Moms replied, before turning to Cynthia. “Has everyone arrived?”

The conversation resumed, but Betty felt the difference. A few relatives exchanged glances. Freddie moved closer to her, his hand resting gently at the small of her back.

At dinner, Moms made sure Freddie sat beside her.

Betty was placed between Cynthia and one of Freddie’s cousins. She tried to join the conversation, but Moms kept directing questions to Freddie.

“Did you eat breakfast this morning?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“You looked tired when I called.”

“I’m fine.”

“You should come by tomorrow. I’ll make the stew you like.”

“Betty and I have plans tomorrow.”

Moms paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. “What plans?”

“We’re looking at apartments.”

Betty saw Cynthia glance at her.

Moms lowered her spoon. “You’re moving out?”

Freddie’s voice remained calm. “I already live on my own.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, Mom. I know.”

Moms looked at Betty, then returned to her meal. “Well, I hope you’ve chosen somewhere sensible. Freddie has always been used to a certain standard.”

“We’ll find a place that works for both of us,” Betty said.

Moms gave her a thin smile. “Of course.”

The rest of dinner passed with forced politeness. When the meal ended, Betty offered to help Cynthia clear the table. Freddie was pulled aside by one of his uncles, and Moms disappeared into the sitting room.

Betty was carrying a stack of plates toward the kitchen when Cynthia touched her arm.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” she said quietly.

Betty shook her head. “It’s okay.”

“It isn’t. Moms can be difficult when she thinks she’s losing control.”

Betty looked toward the sitting room. “Has she always been like this?”

Cynthia hesitated. “Not with everyone. Freddie has always been different for her.”

“What do you mean?”

Cynthia seemed to reconsider her answer. “You should ask Freddie. It’s his story to tell.”

Before Betty could respond, a woman’s voice called from the sitting room.

“Betty, come here for a moment.”

Moms stood beside the window, holding a glass of water. She had waited until the other relatives were busy before calling Betty over.

Betty set the plates down and walked toward her.

“Is something wrong?”

“I wanted to speak to you privately.”

Betty glanced toward the kitchen. Freddie was still talking with his uncle. “All right.”

Moms studied her for a moment. “You seem to think this family has accepted you.”

“I’m not expecting everyone to accept me immediately.”

“Good. Because you should understand that Freddie has responsibilities.”

“I know.”

“He has always been a devoted son. He checks on me every day. He makes sure I have everything I need.”

“That’s good,” Betty said. “I want him to have a close relationship with you.”

Moms’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Then you should understand why I’m concerned.”

“Concerned about what?”

“About the way things are changing. He’s making decisions without speaking to me. He’s turning down invitations. He’s talking about moving farther away.”

“He’s making decisions about his own life.”

Moms’s expression hardened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Betty felt her patience thinning, but she kept her voice steady. “I know Freddie loves you. I also know he loves me. Those things don’t have to compete.”

Moms looked away, as if Betty had said something foolish.

“You think you’re the first woman to tell me that?”

Betty was caught off guard. “What?”

Moms took a slow breath. “There was someone before you.”

A chill moved through Betty, though she didn’t know why.

“Someone Freddie dated?”

“Someone who thought she could take him away from me.”

Betty waited.

Moms’s fingers tightened around the glass. “She was charming. She knew exactly what to say. Freddie was young, and he believed her when she told him that I was interfering.”

“What happened?”

Moms looked directly at her. “She left.”

“Did Freddie end the relationship?”

“No.” Moms’s voice dropped. “She disappeared from his life. And he was devastated.”

Betty felt a small ache in her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Moms stepped closer. “Because I won’t allow that to happen again.”

Betty held her ground. “I’m not that woman.”

“You’re saying that now.”

“I love Freddie. I’m not trying to take him away from his family.”

Moms gave a quiet, humorless laugh. “That’s what she said, too.”

Before Betty could answer, Freddie appeared in the doorway.

“Mom? Betty? Is everything okay?”

Moms’s expression changed at once. She smiled and lifted her glass.

“Of course. We were just getting to know each other.”

Freddie looked at Betty. She could tell he didn’t believe his mother.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

Betty nodded.

They said their goodbyes and left the house. Freddie didn’t speak until they were inside the car.

“What did she say to you?”

Betty watched the house grow smaller in the side mirror. “She told me there was someone before me.”

Freddie’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“Someone you dated?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

“Freddie?”

“Yes,” he said at last. “There was.”

“What happened to her?”

Freddie stared ahead. “It’s complicated.”

Betty waited for him to explain, but he said nothing more.

When they reached her apartment, he walked her to the door. She turned to him before going inside.

“I’m not asking you to tell me everything tonight,” she said. “But I need to know if there’s something about your past that could affect our future.”

Freddie looked as if he wanted to answer. Instead, he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“I love you, Betty.”

“I love you, too. That doesn’t mean we should keep secrets from each other.”

He kissed her forehead and promised they would talk soon.

Betty watched him leave, uneasy about the conversation they had not finished.

Inside his car, Freddie sat with his phone in his hand. He opened an old message thread he hadn’t looked at in years.

The last message was from a woman whose name he had tried to forget.

Freddie, please. Your mother is watching me. I can’t do this anymore.

He closed the thread quickly.

Then his phone rang.

His mother’s name appeared on the screen.

Freddie answered.

“Mom, I’m not coming back tonight.”

“I know,” Moms said. “I’m not calling about that.”

He waited.

Her voice softened. “I need you to remember something, Freddie. I have always protected you.”

Freddie looked at the old message on his screen.

For the first time, he wondered whether his mother had been protecting him from the truth.